Off the Beat
The one thing about Nyon is that it can be a good place to disappear -- you know, if you were the kind of mech looking for a place to hide. The bad thing about Nyon is that it can be a bad place to disappear, because it's not exactly like there's a lot of follow-up to any missing person's cases in the area or anything. But hey! You win some, you lose some. Hot Rod's expression suggests he's won some, although possibly not as major a victory as his smug swanning might suggest. "--right past the enforcers, seriously, they never even saw him," he's telling Chromia, who has been cursed to accompany him. She must've done something awful to get stuck tagging along with Hot Rod carrying things through Nyon. Wow. Boxes! Unmarked boxes. Amazing. Skids is walking down the street looking for a familiar face or spot where Rung can law low for a while. "Allright let's get a few things straight. What I did back there was because I did not have a choice. I would also appreciate if you would keep quiet on the details. I am walking on thin ice these days and I do not need more troubles." Chromia looks dubious, but then, she often looks dubious. It's not even limited to when Hot Rod is talking; it may even reflect a generalized doubt directed universally, to which this conversation's addition is only happenstance. "As far as you know," she says. "As far as you can /tell/." She lugs the box without complaining. About that, anyway. "Of course," Rung quickly agrees, nearly having to run to keep up with Skids' pace. "I.. you didn't have to do that," the psychiatrist, his tone of voice mellow. "Thank you, and if there is anything I can do for you, please.. don't hesitate to ask. I understand this must all be kept under wraps." It probably helps that the boxes are destined for Nautica and science things. It's not like Hot Rod is forcing Chromia to carry paints to touch up the flames on his hood. She'd probably leave him quartered and bleeding out in the gutters, first. They aren't far from Skids and Rung, and it just so happens that they are walking in the same direction. Convenient, right? From behind, Hot Rod has time enough to study the pair ahead. "Hey -- hey, that mech look familiar? I think I've seen him somewhere," he says of Rung. "And /not/ around here." Because he knows everyone in Nyon. (No, he doesn't.) "Nope," Chromia says crisply, following Hot Rod's glance. "But that does mean he probably hasn't tried to blow up the embassy." Skids nods at Rung's promise of keeping things under wraps. "I appreciate that. And Yes...I had to do it. As law abiding as I am these guards were goons and you did not deserve to be treated that way. I did my 'civic' duty. I will have to use an emergency clause in the law system to bail myself out if they come after me. Hopefully it will not come to that." Rung averts his optics, flattered. "R-really?" he stammers in embarrassment. "You're too kind, sir," Rung says, placing a hand on Skid's arm. He smiles. His smiles soon fades, though. "Well, what now? You must stay safe--and away from prying optics." "He doesn't look like the kind of guy to blow-- that's it!" Hot Rod jogs to catch up to Skids and Rung, which is just what two mechs on the run want, right? A random assault from a stranger carrying a mystery box? "Hey, you're Rung, that clinician who everyone thought was dead, then you got arrested, right?" If /Hot Rod/ can spot him so easily, they might be in trouble. Loping in Hot Rod's wake as she lugs the box around, it becomes a random assault from two strangers carrying mystery boxes, although the second one is looking considerably scowlier. "What--" Skids spins around at the 'stranger' catching up to them. Are the cops onto them already? There is a familiar flash of orange that is a scream for attention. "Hey! Hot Rod right?" He turns to Rung and motions to Hot Rod "You know him?" Apparently the three of them are just standing around, out on the streets the Rust Narrows of Nyon. If Rung and Skids were trying to hide, this is not a very good place. You know, skyspy network, and uh...anywhere near Hot Rod is never a good place to hide. Like ever. So yes, the cops are onto them, because a squadron is fast approaching from the east. There's no mistaking it, so most of the locals scatter quickly to get out of their way. Rung hides behinds Skids, frowning. He peeks out from behind the theoretician. "Excuse me," he huffs. He glances at Skids. "No," he says, "I don't believe I do." He's a little put out by Hot Rod, the flame boy is drawing attention to them. And now they are suffering the immediate consequences of it. The cops are coming. Rung sighs. Why can't he ever be noticed at the right time? "Oh, hey." Placing Skids once he turns (look, like half the planet is blue: they all look the same from behind) Hot Rod warms up with recognition. "Yeah. Skids? No, never met the guy, but I've heard things. What are you doing here?" In aside to scowly, he says, "Chromia, this is Skids. He helped get Nautica out." Enough said, right? There. Now everyone knows everyone else. Foolish enough to assume that the approaching cops have nothing to do with them, he says, "Been hoping to run into you, mech," to Rung. Chromia stands braced with her box hooked against her hip, angled there by the pressure of her arm, her bright gaze narrowing faintly as she surveys the other three. She nods once to Skids, acknowledgingly. Enough said. "Then it's good to meet you," she says. Because she doesn't watch TV, she is less familiar with what Hot Rod is talking about as to Rung, and mostly stands there looking solid, feet planted. At the present moment in time, she operates under the assumption that she has little to fear from lawful authorities. Skids smiles and nods at Chromia "Likewise and..." The mech spots the police squadron closing in. "Ah slag..." He quickly looks around for an alley. He needs a few seconds to use another trick to buy a minute and...make something up along the way from there. "Trouble is inbound my friend. We need to bail and fast." Rung stares skeptically at the two of them. "... and why is that?" the psychiatrist asks, his brows raised. He stays behind Skids for now. He glances anxious eastward with a sigh, nodding at Skids. "Well I don't mean to be rude, but I do believe Skids and I must excuse ourselves now. Goodbye," he bids the two of them, starting to walk away, quickly. Very quickly. Walking fast doesn't really cut it. The police squadron is practically upon them by now. "Skids!" A familiar voice calls out. Yes, Prowl is less than happy that one of his own appears to have undone all his work. "You've got a lot of -explaining- to do." Ha ha like it is that easy to ditch Hot Rod. NOPE. He keeps easy pace with them. "Oh, that's you?" Glancing from Skids to Rung and then back in the direction of the approaching squadron, he gives Chromia a grin. It's not him! HA! "Look, I know Nyon, if you need a shortcut," he offers Rung and Skids as Prowl approaches. Cut and run? He's willing to show them where! Chromia's answering expression is sardonic, a kind of bemused-amused reluctance, like she can't quite believe she is smiling, but there she is doing it anyway. Ugh. Shut up. He really does grow on you. Like a fungus. Her head cants aside as she picks up Prowl calling Skids's name. "Somebody sounds cranky," she observes as she moves, long-legged and quick. She'd be faster if she reverted from root mode, but then what about Nautica's boxes!! Time slows down...Skids freezes in his tracks as his name is called out and he recognizes the voice. Skids looks over his shoulder marking the position of every LEO. He begins plotting the various ways he could get out of this. Time to spin the table around. He leans over to Rung and mutters "Play along." Skids turns to face Prowl "No...YOU have alot of explaining to do. Illegal detention? Arbitrarily ignoring the rights of my client? Torture? Isolation? My client was held way longer than he should have and without any evidence." Rung sighs tiredly and waves dismissively at Hot Rod. "Please, do yourself a favor and leave the premises before the cops decide you belong in jail as well. Thank you, but no thank you. Take care of yourself." He glances over at the police squadron. His optics light up at little and he gives Prowl a little smile and wave. He's still happy to see him. Still. Friends, right? Fwweeenddsss. He plays along with Skids' story, and remains silent. Prowl gives Skids a baffled look. "Client? What the -slag- are you talking about? This mech was jailed for illegal memory bank modification, and -you- released him without authorization. Now, explain yourself, or I'll have to arrest you as well." he demands. He also glares at Hot Rod, because Hot Rod is nothing but trouble. Hot Rod looks confused. Why is Skids trying to talk to Prowl like he can be reasoned with. Why is Rung going along with this. This looks like it is devolving into a legal argument, rather than argument-argument, and as such, he's left at a loss. He looks at Chromia. Help. He rocks in place, returning Prowl's glare in the most annoying way possible: he grins a challenge at him. "Sure you got this?" he asks Skids in aside. Chromia shrugs in a clanky shift of pauldrons, her head loweirng with a shifted angle of her winged helm as she jerks her head in a directed gesture away. "No idea," she says. "You're looking for the diplomatist and she isn't here." Skids looks at Rung and stares a bit muttering "Something you neglected to mention to your 'lawyer'?" He looks at Hot Rod and mouths a 'Maybe'. He turns back to Prowl "It started as a legal visit. Information on the case and why it ws dragging so much. Before long your goons came and started to beat on the guy for no reason, heck for pure pleasure. What kind of psychos do you have working for you by the way? I had a choice, I could either remove him for his safety from a dangerous environment or get tossed in the cell next to his for protesting. As for you...You just tossed him in there without a trial to be tortured by the guards?" Or is he? Maybe Rung's not. He grins as Prowl approaches. As soon as Prowl gives Skids a verbal lashing, the tiny orange mech steps forward and takes Prowl's hands in his own. "Officer, it's so good to see you! How have you been?" He glances at Skids for a moment, then back at Prowl. "I must thank you for allowing me to keep that data pad while I was in prison. It eased the loneliness. I've also been thinking, about your proposition. The one about joining the Autobots...?" Prowl grumbles. 'Bots these days. "You should have simply informed a superior officer of unwarranted improper treatment of a prisoner, as protocol dictates, -not- cut and run. That way, the offenders could be properly disciplined." Ugh, isn't Skids supposed to be -smart-? "Now, if you'll simply turn him over to me, I will order an audit on the prison patrols, and see if they can't find the perpetrators. Resist and you'll have to be disciplined as well." He glances at Rung, who again acts inappropriately friendly. "I..." Awkward. "It's good to see you as well." he arches an optic ridge at the last question. "And have you made your decision?" "Bet they mysteriously don't find the perpetrators," Hot Rod mutters in a way that is clearly meant to carry. His expression darkens as Rung saunters up to make friendly with Prowl. He jerks his head at Chromia in a universal 'we're LEAVING' kind of gesture. Going far, far away from icky things like compliance with the law and joining the Autobots. Who'd want that. Chromia makes a noise, a soft chuff like a whirr of escaping air. Hefting her box with an angled slant of her gaze across the others, she turns in a scrapey slide of one foot overthe ground and turns to follow. She doesn't make any sassy parting shots, though. Skids is smart...smart enough to notice Prowl avoiding the tough questions "There is no guarantee he would have still been alive if I took the time to go to the superior officer and you have not answered my questions. How long were you going to hold him without a trial? How long were you willing to bend the law?" "Well, no," Rung admits, releasing Prowl's hands. "But I will. If you allow to Skids to leave here, legally unblemished. Unfortunately," he says, glancing at Skids, "if you cannot, I must simply return to jail." The psychiatrist sighs tiredly, looking over at Skids once more. "I don't want anymore trouble," he says, "and I have caused enough for you. Don't worry about arguing for my sake.." "As long as is necessary." Prowl answers. "Don't pretend to know protocol better than I do, Skids." Because no one knows it better than Prowl. Well, okay maybe Ultra Magnus. It would be a pretty even contest. "We can't very well let criminals and suspected criminals wander the -streets-, free to do as they please, while they await a trial, now can we? That would threaten the security of the populace." He glares daggers at Hot Rod again, but doesn't reply. There's no point in arguing with that guy. The officer sighs at Rung. "If Skids cooperates, as I've already said, I will let him off this time without any disciplinary action." "Nice meeting you for the brief sliver of time you had your freedom!" Hot Rod calls flippantly over his shoulder to Rung. "See you around, Skids." His familiarity with Skids /clearly/ shows where /someone/ might be getting bad habits. Meet Hot Rod once: ruined forever. He heads off before Prowl can arrest him for being a bad influence. He picks up with Chromia more or less where he left off: "Almost thought you were right, but it looks like he got past after all. Nautica should be happy about it, huh? Science things! For ... science stuff!" Chromia glances back at them with a faint narrowing of her gaze reflecting the only change in her expression, facing forward again with a slight shake of her head, frown lingering about her aspect. "They do get everywhere, don't they," she says in a neutral tone that does not quite approach baffle. "Like that other guy." Hoisting the box a little, she snorts. "Yes, I am sure she will be happy about it. Though she would tell you that all things are science things, probably. And something something quantum something." Skids is stunned at Prowl's answer. "As long as necessary. For safety? The age old cry of the tyrant. I spend alot of time reading by the way. You would be surprised at how much I know. Do the world a favor and resign while you still have an ounce of integrity." With Rung determined to turn himself in for his own sake there is nothing to be gained by staying here. "Hot Rod?! I will catch up when I am done here." Rung sighs, shaking his helm. "Skids, just go. I don't want anymore trouble," he gives the theoretician a grieved look. "I'm sorry to have caused you all this trouble. But if myself being in jail,m though I would have never dreamed of joining the Deceptions, means you get to leave scotch free as along as you cooperate, well then that must be the only option." He sighs. "It was nice knowing you. Perhaps you could come visit me again sometime? I have a few friends you could look up. Blurr? You must know him. And Arcee. As well as Blast Off. I do not know what has become of them, but..." "Blast Off is a murderer." Prowl says bluntly in response to Rung's question. "Hmph." He scowls at Skids. "Oh, well all right, perhaps we should simply -let- all the psychopaths roam the streets, then, until we have found them guilty via trial? Free to come and go as they please, free to attack you and those you care about? Is that what you'd like to see? No? Well then I suppose -you- have a suggestion as to how these things ought to be done differently? Not as easy you thought it was, is it?" *as "We'll walk slow, then," Hot Rod promises with a laugh. "And I'm easy to find." His gaze lingers a moment on Rung, and then he's gone. Well, gone-ish. As mentioned, he's easy to spot as he makes his way down the street nice and slow. It's the spoiler. Flames from the front, spoiler from the back, and basically impossible to blend in, always. Skids looks at Rung and makes a note of the names he needs to check on. Seems Blast Off's whereabouts are already known. "Alledged psychopaths. If you had any evidence you could probably give them a speedy trial. The only people you hold indefinately without trial are political prisonners, people who get framed and people whom you have no evidence against." He looks back at Rung "Do not worry. We will meet again." With that Skids walks away and moves to catch up with Hot Rod. But both Prowl and Skids will be surprised to find that the orange mech has disappeared. The street they're standing on is a busy one, and it would appear the slight psychiatrist, while Skids and Prowl were arguing managed to slip away unnoticed. Where is he now? Who knows. He has habit of going unnoticed... "Of course I have evidence. Would you like me to show you?" Prowl asks, but then Skids walks away. Guess not. Clearly he just doesn't -want to know. And now Rung is gone too. Though the officer doesn't look that concerned. He just sighs and drives off.